A Cold Heart
by StuffRocksInnit
Summary: A sniper in a warzone...an alien invasion..."I suddenly recall the date, from far away; the 14th of February..."


**A/N/: Hi. Never written for CoD before. This isn't technically related to the storyline, but the place is based on a CoD map and the experience of sniping is kind of like what I felt when playing Black Ops. There's a whole storyline bit which is totally unrelated, but I hope you enjoy it anyways. **

_0_

Before all this started (which, I must admit, is a while ago now), I met an old man in the park. He sat down on my bench as I was eating my lunch, and I let him. Hey, it's not like I owned the bench or anything. Anyway, after a while, he turned to me and asked, "How long do you think, young lady?"

I had stared at him blankly. "What?"

"How long do you think until all this," he motioned outwards towards the city with one hand, "is gone?"

I was puzzled. "A long while, I'd imagine. It's New York."

The old man shook his head, smiling. "No, dear. How long until the human race's time comes to an end?" After a short silence in which I didn't answer, he chuckled darkly. "It's the question lurking in all of our hearts, isn't it?" he asked quietly. "We all hear every day about climate change, endangered species, destroyed ecosystems. And we all wonder, just secretly, if this time we've all gone too far." I stared at him, speechless, and he stood slowly and tipped his hat. "Farewell, young lady." He smiled sadly. "I can see your future, you know. But I won't tell you what lies in store."

He moved away, but he hadn't completely hidden the sadness on his face. I called after him. "What do you mean, you can see my future? Why do you look sad?"

He had glanced over his shoulder, and the look on his face made my body go cold, icyness I still remember to this day. "Your life ends in death, young lady, just like everyone else's. How can I not be sad, when I think of a young flower like you, dying?"

I had run home that evening, still feeling the cold, clammy grip of that fear. I had thrown myself into Michael's arms, mute to his worried questions. "Just hold me," I'd whispered.

If only he could hold me now.

My breath mists in the icy air, and I pray to any kind of luck that they don't see it. I don't pray to God. I stopped believing in him a long while ago.

_Unseen, unheard. Unseen, unheard._ I repeat the mantra many times over, my one solace. The gun's long barrel is ice in my frozen fingers. I am a practised warrior, the unseen huntress. I am the kestrel, soaring on silent wings toward my prey. I am top of them all, the elite of all the underdogs.

The sniper. The art of the silent kill. One shot, one life.

I'm on one knee high on an aerial walkway, the patterns of the metal under me biting hard into the skin of my knee and shin, even through all my layers of clothing. The weather is arctic, but I never expected anything else. We are in Siberia, after all. The cold metal of the rifle leeches the warmth from my hands, despite my gloves. _Only one downside to being a sniper, _I think to myself dully. _You freeze to death when it's cold. _I twitch the M24 .300 slightly, using only the barest twitch of movement to shift my eye to the telescopic sights fastened to the top of the barrel. No movement down there. It seems the Akid are hiding, for the moment.

The Akid aren't human; they're an alien race with whom humans made contact about twenty years ago. To the Akid, decisions are simple; either it benefits them, or it doesn't. Unfortunately, despite many attempts at peaceful cohesion, the Akid decided humans didn't benefit them unless they were slaves. Cue an Akid invasion, about ten years ago now. Though they were slightly more technologically advanced at the start, we soon caught up, and this Third World War has been more bloody and gruesome than any before it. The Akid are ruthless by nature, and they don't give up. They don't do deals, and they don't sign peace treaties. Right now they had the upper hand, but we were going to show them that we, too, didn't give up.

When the declaration of war came from the Akid, world leaders had done some drastic thinking. Most had the same general idea; conscript every able-bodied man and woman, then send the rest into hiding. Posting stations had popped up overnight in my local streets of Manhattan, and I'd signed up with some trepidation. Before training camp, the only time I'd ever used terms such as 'friendly fire' or 'strategy bombs' or 'quick scoping' had been while playing videogames, and 'camping' had been a repellent activity involving tents and outdoor cooking. Now, friendly fire was a dreaded, heart-stopping enemy, strategy bombs could mean the difference between life and death, quick scoping was a skill known to all as 'the sudden death approach', and camping meant hiding while equipped with a large gun, waiting for your enemy to walk into your trap.

There. Movement. An Akid, a grunt, moving across the snowy scrub in-between the burnt out buildings, orange skin camouflaged with white face paint. I pinpoint him with the sights, positioning him squarely in the middle of the crosshairs, then twitch the trigger. The gun makes barely any noise as it's equipped with a suppressor, muffling the sound, and the Akid falls with only a small yelp. One shot, one life. Taking the recoil on the shoulder, I grunt quietly. Another down.

Suddenly, Akid appear all over the place, as if their comrade's death signalled an attack. Stomping firmly on the sudden panic triggered by their arrival en masse, I start taking them down. Parker was on another walkway to my left, and Avis was on my right. I hear shots from the left; obviously Parker's suppressor isn't working properly. _Don't find him, don't find him, _I pray silently.

I take aim at another Akid, pull the trigger. Instead of the usual dull thump, my gun gives a dry rattle. _Oh shit…_I desperately pull at the trigger, but it's no use. I'm out of ammo. I hunker down on the walkway, hopefully out of sight, and watch what's going on below. Despite the sniper fire, some Akid get through. They're under my walkway. My breath is coming in short gasps now; the only weapon I have is my knife and a small pistol, neither of which will do me much good against an Akid's light machine gun. The useless M24 lies pitifully on the metal next to me, its sights a staring eye. _Sorry, Kia, _the eye says mournfully. _I'm sorry. _

The Akid are confused. They can't find the access ladder for the walkway. I camouflaged it well; hopefully they'll never find it and they'll give up looking. Hopefully.

There's a sudden stutter of machine gun fire. I twist round and stare at the sparks as the bullets hit the metalwork on my right; Avis' side. They've spotted her, she's there. The dull thump of her rifle isn't audible, but you can be damn sure she's firing it. No use. Bright red liquid sprays the silver aluminium; Lieutenant Avis Reacher is gone. Two of the gunners who killed her fall, sniped by Parker. _I wish I could avenge you, Avis, _I think with a twist of pain, the usual hate of the Akid turning to bile in my throat. Parker snipes a few more, but we're low on supplies and they're not all gone before his fire stops. Out. He's out.

My heart clenches in my chest. Steps. Steps on the ladder. I scramble up and take off around the walkway; there's an exit into a building at the other end. Behind me the Akid are shouting. I slide down the ladder and squirrel myself away behind some boxes inside the warehouse. It smells of chemicals. They used to store the completed nukes in here, before they were sent off to the highest bidder. Damn Russians. Well, they're on side now, anyway.

The Akid are in the storehouse. They've found my gun, and deep inside I know it's only a matter of time before they find me. I scoot around the back of the boxes, keeping low, and scurry out behind the building. Hope starts to flicker in my chest. If I can get past this fence, I'll be in the tundra, where the Akid won't follow. There's a base not too far from here, and I know my way back. That hope starts to burn with a vengeance.

And dies as I hear the shot, seconds before it bursts through my leg. All I can manage is a strangled gasp as I topple, stricken, to the snow. The pain is blinding, searing, but I can't stop, I can't stop…Even though it's futile, I try to scramble away, try to run, must save myself. Oh god, I can't die here, Michael's waiting, we promised we'd get married, I can't die here!

The Akid's boots crunch into the snow beside me. I find myself flipped over and staring into his alien eyes. My heart is pounding in my chest wildly, I can feel the bile rising as I realise I _am _going to die, right here, on this cold snow; my life is going to end. All I can think of is Michael, my fiancé, waiting for me back at base camp, dreaming of when this will be over and we can marry in the summertime…The Akid looks sad, something I've never seen before. He still raises his gun, points it at my chest. Then it angles down and he shoots me through the stomach, before turning and running. Despite the fog seeping through my brain, I realise this is the first time I've heard of an Akid truly showing emotion.

Somehow I'm numb, just slipping away, the pain from the blood-seeping bullet holes not registering within my brain. Suddenly I recall the date, from far away; the 14th of February. _Valentine's Day, _I think quietly, as the fog consumes me and the darkness calls. _It seems Fate is not without a sense of irony. _

_0_

Parker finds her later, strewn on the ground, another needless waste of a life. He already has Avis, so he motions to Rookwood to take Kia. Tears are in both their eyes as they set off over the frozen wastes. All Parker can think is; _Poor Michael. Poor, poor Michael. He and Kia were going to spend the rest of their lives together. _

And years later, at a gravestone in Arlington National Cemetery, an old man is kneeling on the grass. He lays some flowers to rest. "You want to know why I didn't tell you your future, Kia Alheart?" he says to the white stone. "Because your tunnel didn't end with a light."


End file.
